


The Right Thing

by tomanonuniverse



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Death, Don't copy to another site, M/M, Self-Sacrifice, Spoilers, Spoilers: RWBY, Spoilers: Volume 7 (RWBY), Volume 7 (RWBY)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22445917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomanonuniverse/pseuds/tomanonuniverse
Summary: All he knows is that he's suddenly being thrown aside like a ragdoll, yet another display of Qrow's strength, landing into the snow less than gracefully.A sickening crunch turns his blood to ice and forces him to quickly look back at the scene.He wishes he hadn't.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 17
Kudos: 213





	The Right Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Since RT deemed it necessary to kill one of these good boys off, here's how I'm coping with it
> 
> I'm not okay lmaooooo

_"Why couldn't you just do **the right thing,** instead of the thing you were told?!" _

Clover knelt on the snow and panted for breath, holding onto his aching middle. He always figured Qrow packed a punch, but he would never have thought it would hurt enough to completely deplete him of his aura the way it did. 

"Sometimes," the Ace Operative croaks, beginning to push himself to his feet, "the right decision… is the hardest to make." As he speaks, he watches as his friend's expression changes. He shifts backwards in a way that alludes to a charge, throwing a wrench directly through Clover's chest. 

Regardless, he shakes his head. "I trust James with my life! I wanted to trust you—" 

The hurried sounds of footsteps cuts his sentence off. Qrow is approaching him and fast, brows furrowed and teeth bared. Clover frowns but squares his shoulders and straightens his back, bracing himself for the impact of the man's incoming tackle. 

… But it never hits. 

Instead, Qrow fists at the collars of his vest the moment he's within arm's reach of him. He yells something Clover doesn't quite hear due to his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. All he knows is that he's suddenly being thrown aside like a ragdoll, yet another display of Qrow's strength, landing into the snow less than gracefully. 

A sickening crunch turns his blood to ice and forces him to quickly look back at the scene. 

He wishes he hadn't. 

Harbinger is protruding through Qrow's back, blood soaking every part of the weapon, it's owner's clothes, and the snow beneath his feet. 

Tyrian, who had pushed the sword there in the first place, looks just as surprised as the two Huntsmen at the sudden turn of events. However, he proceeds to giggle gleefully and simply yank the sword out from the man's chest, almost as though he hadn't just stabbed through him. 

Qrow takes faltering steps backwards, hands on his bloody torso as he wheezes and gasps for air. He looks at his palms for a moment, caked in nothing but crimson, and drops to his knees. His head turns to his comrade and for a brief second, red eyes meet teal. His aura flickers for a moment, then he falls over onto his side. 

"Well then!" The scorpion faunus laughs, casting the bloodied sword into the snow. "That didn't exactly go as planned."

Clover is hyper-aware of the fact that Callows is still talking. He can hear the escaped convict cackling like the madman he's always been, babbling about something or the other, but nothing that makes sense seems to reach his ears. His entire world had zeroed on his fallen friend. 

"Qrow…?" He calls out softly, and of course, gets no response. His heart beats quicker and he promptly shifts onto his hands and knees, crawling towards the other man as fast as he possibly could. _"Qrow!"_

Tyrian is long gone, but Clover finds that he doesn't _care._ He turns Qrow onto his back and lifts him onto his thighs, cradling the back of his head with one hand while the other brushes graying black hair out of his face. Had his skin always been this pale? His cheeks and eyes always this sunken? 

The Ace Operative feels like there's a noose tightening around his neck with every second of silence that passes. "Qrow?! Qrow, can you hear me?!" He demands, doing everything in his power to refrain from shaking him awake. "Qrow, _please!_ Please, _say something—!"_

_"Shhh!"_ Branwen abruptly says, turning his head towards Clover as slits of red revealed themselves from behind barely opened eyelids. "Too _loud."_

Tears spring to Clover's eyes. "You're _alive,"_ he breathes, both relieved and disbelieving. Quickly, his hands move to the man's torso and apply pressure to the gaping wound that lies there. "Just— Just hold on, Qrow," he stammers, "help is on the way, okay? Just _hold on."_

The Huntsman has the audacity to laugh. "We both know there's no surviving _this,_ Golden Boy."

 _"Don't say that!"_ Clover interjects immediately, startling both himself and the man in his arms. "Just… Don't say that. Don't say anything at all, actually. You need to save your energy so that your aura can—" 

Qrow sighs. "Ebi…" He says, with a tone that's just too _resigned_ for Clover to accept. 

_"It should have been me!"_ Clover shouts, vision blurry from the tears in his eyes. "Callows was aiming for _me,_ he even admitted it himself! And then you had to go and play _hero—!"_ He shakes the thought. This wasn't the time to be angry at Qrow. "It should have been me—!" 

He hadn't realized the tears his eyes harbored had finally fallen until Qrow raised a hand to his face, wiping them away with his thumb. "But it _wasn't,"_ he tells him, then tilts his head and gives him a knowing smirk. "Lucky you, huh?" 

The comment only pulls a sob from Clover. He clings to the hand on his face, ignoring the blood that now coated his skin because of it. He shuts his eyes tightly, wishing and hoping and praying that this wasn't real and that it wasn't happening. All efforts futile, of course. 

Qrow suddenly draws in a sharp breath and Clover opens his eyes to look at him. "Look after my kids for me," he says, and it barely sounds like a request. 

Clover whimpers. "Qrow…" 

_"Please,_ Clover," he begs, threading their fingers together. "Promise me you'll look after them."

The leader of the Ace Operatives' shoulders fall in defeat. "Okay," he relents. "I promise you I'll take care of them. I _promise."_

Qrow sags in his arms and his expression relaxes. He coughs weakly and nods in confirmation, more to himself than to Clover. "Good, good…" He rasps, then shoots the man above him a grateful look. "Thank you."

 _"I'm sorry,"_ is what Clover responds with, tears streaming down his face. He should have listened to his heart, instead of his orders. He should have listened to _Qrow._

But the dying man only laughs weakly and removes his trembling hand from Clover's to brush his brown hair back, then slides his hand to the man's chest and touches the green charm pinned to his uniform. 

"I'm not."

The sun rises behind them and Qrow spares a glance to the sight. It's nice, he thinks, that he was at least fortunate enough to die with scenery in the background. But as Clover turns back to him, he thinks he's got a much more beautiful imagery to pass onto the other side with. 

Clover watches Qrow's pale hand drop to the ground and the light fade from his eyes, and he wails. 

He wishes he'd done _the right thing._


End file.
